Just Scenes
by Denise Allen
Summary: Just some add-ons to scenes that popped into my mind or that I saw on Dr Who new or classic.
1. Chapter 1

The Curator slowly walked through the halls of the Underground Vault to his office. He opened his mind and smiled when he detected the faintest trace of his oldest friend and partner in crime. She would sense his time line and presence soon enough. If ever there was a wibbly-wobbly ball of timey whimeyness this was it. He thought gleefully as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. And since he and his younger self were responsible, he intended to thoroughly enjoy the moment.

His young assistant Osgood walked into his office. "You asked me to inform you when the Doctor returned sir. " She said hesitantly. The Curator was one of the oldest and most mysterious position(s)/person(s) in UNIT. She was in awe of the old man. He was one of the few who always treated her kindly. He even gave her the scarf. Her co-workers had scoffed at her, but she adored it. She wore it since it pleased him, and somehow pleasing him pleased her

He raised his head. Osgood smiled at the look of mischievous joy in his eyes and on his face.

"Ah. I see they are. Thank you Osgood."

He knew he would see Clara first, The Impossible Girl. She lived and died in all his time streams. It would be good to meet the companion who gave so much that this moment was possible.

He rose stiffly. This old body was the result of the Time War finally resolving itself correctly The time lines finally converging correctly. It had been intensely painful getting here, and he intended to give his younger self the hope and joy that had been absent for so long. His younger self in this body had been unable to commit genocide all those years ago on Skaro. It wouldn't have mattered anyway he knew now. The time lines had to play out as it was destined to do. He knew that now. Still that was little comfort to his more recent incarnations that had suffered horribly. It was only right he mused that he fix it now in the same body that started it. Time lines were funny things twisting and turning as they did.

He felt the twinge at the back of his mind as he made his way toward Clara. The TARDIS had registered his presence. She projected bewilderment, surprise, and shock. Curiosity turned to suspicion then demand. He promised it would all be answered if she would trust him for just a few minutes more. She harrumphed she had heard that before.

He laughed freely into her mind. "Some things never change old friend." He thought wryly.

She ran the time lines and realized what it all meant. Her thief , they , he, all of them had done it. The time lords were alive! She would have danced about if she could. He was here! He was here and oh how she had missed this him. The overactive child who found such joy in simply being. The body was aged but his mind oh that wonderful mind. She heard a shush from him when he realized she wanted to tell her present thief. She sang into his mind she would keep his secret. Oh this felt so good after so long. The Curator mentally laughed agreeing with one of his oldest friends.

The Curator walked around the corner knowing Clara would be there. He remembered her flashing through his time stream actually all his time streams He recalled it as one might remember an old fond memory. It was vague, Still he knew she was important and he fully intended to take this opportunity. He doubted it would come again.

Clara experienced the most incredible sense of de javu . Did she remember this from the past or as something from the future. That was the annoying part she thought wryly of throwing one's self into a timelord's time stream, especially one with so many memories and regenerations. Clara stopped dead in shock as she saw the old man in the hall. It was impossible but oh did she know this man. It was impossible . It couldn't be, but here he was. She gaped at him. She remembered those eyes. Things were so vague with so many time streams, but those eyes. It was impossible to forget those eyes that lit from the inside out. My God it really was him

"Ah Clara Oswin Oswald we finally meet or is it again?"

That deep voice wrapped around her just as she remembered or thought she did.

" Hoo-How..." Clara stammered.

The Curator smiled. "Time streams my dear...time streams. Amazingly timey- whimey things time streams." He grinned at her and Clara just knew everything would be OK

"Doc.."

He shook his head interrupting and placed a finger to her lips.

"Curator, I'm the Curator." He answered and then tapped her nose.

Clara recovered quickly. "Of course, time lines and all. It wouldn't do to have two of you zipping about the place."

His eyes twinkled hinting something good." As you say time lines. Endless parallel universes with so many possibilties...so many possibilities don't you know."

It took Clara a second to understand what he was implying. She stared at him then her eyes popped as she understood. She smiled until she thought her face would break. He grinned in return.

" We did it!" She exclaimed as she ran to hug him.

The Curator waved his hands at the noise, while somehow staying upright despite Clara's enthusiastic hug.

" Shhh." He hissed harshly.

"Sorry." She whispered about ready to burst with excitement.

He chuckled slightly as he released her. "No harm I think." He appeared to listen for a moment and then smiled. Yes, his younger self was coming. Good time to close this loop, and give the lad a new purpose. Something to run toward instead of something to run from. Now wouldn't that be a change.

"Be a dear and do a favor for an old man." He winked as she laughed. "Run ahead and be sure that Doctor of yours doesn't run away until I say hello. Hate to be rude you know."

Clara laughed. " Which old man?" She teased him.

He chuckled softly as she bounced off to find the Doctor.

"Which old man indeed." The Curator smiled to himself greatly looking forward to the encounter.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: Any dialogue excepted or quoted from here belongs to the BBC and the "Day of the Doctor" episode. It was needed to make this scene work the way I hoped. Any mistakes are my own and all characters etc are the BBC's. Thank you BBC for such a wonderful sandbox.

The Doctor exited the TARDIS in an elated mood. He couldn't quite determine why he was so happy, but he was. Clara was acting coy but happy. He was too relieved to pursue it any further. He would worm it from her later. She could never refuse his pathetic face. At least he liked to believe she couldn't. He smiled as he walked about the gallery and sat on the bench pondering.

Had he no had "they" done it? He really couldn't tell. He vaguely remembered his previous selves and the War Doctor. The thought of that "self" didn't set a wave of revulsion through him. That must be a good sign. He remembered himself, all of his selves actually even an extra maybe. No, that couldn't be right. He was the last no more incarnations. It was vague as time lines readjusted into their proper place. That was the problem when multiples of himself existed in the same place. It always caused a whopping headache for reasons he could barely recall at times. Not to mention he usually didn't like "himself" that much. He giggled as he thought how absurd it was that he couldn't get along with himself. Silly really if you thought about it not liking yourself.

A "Curator" was looking for him Clara said. Well, if it was important he would find him. He was in no particular hurry to be anywhere. He was content to simply sit pondering retirement. If he stopped to consider being content to sit still, it might have warned him that something major was about to happen. Yes, at the moment sitting in the gallery babbling to himself about "retirement" was everywhere he wanted to be.

"You know I really think you might." A deep voice voice echoed.

His bubble popped abruptly. A voice that couldn't be here. It was impossible that voice "his voice" so long ago. That self so so long ago...the thought abruptly stopped as he turned and realized he wasn't alone. It was him ...it wasn't it couldn't be. How...? The body was aged but oh it was "him".

The Doctor rose slowly. "I never forget a face." He heard himself say.

How could he it was his face well not his present face but "his" face or had been but so much older. He hadn't been that old when he had regenerated...No, it couldn't be him but it was. He felt a small tickle of mirth in his mind as he looked at himself. Was it coming from "him"? What was this?

Oh this was interesting very very interesting the Doctor reflected. "Visiting a few of the old favorites." Indeed! This face was one of his favorites he realized shocked. He had been happy then bumping around the Universe with Sarah, Romana and the others. He had been so young, so free. Memories from so long ago flooding him.

The TARDIS knocked him out of his shocked mental reverie with the equivalent of a mental slap as she jumped for joy in his mind. He realized "he" was talking and yes it was him.

This whoever "he" was was so like that younger him he could feel the excitement rolling from him. It was contagious. He looked at the painting as he realized that …."he" was quizzing him.

The Curator smiled enjoying this more than he ever have imagined. It had been so long, since he had felt so free. He wanted his younger self to have hope again, a little fore knowledge not too much. Just enough to tease. The rest would be up to him and his future regenerations.

"You were curious about this painting I think. I acquired it in remarkable circumstances. What do you make of the title?" The Curator inquired.

The Doctor mentally flinched. "Which title there's two. No More or Gallifrey Falls. " He answered heavily.

The Curator shook his head looking at the Doctor intently. "No, you see that's were everybody's wrong. It's all one title. Gallifrey Falls No More.", he paused stressing the next part " Now, what would you think that means eh?"

The Curator stood waiting for his younger self to absorb what he already knew. He saw the moment his eyes lit.

"It's still out there." He exclaimed.

Finally the boy believed. Yes, it was still out there.

"Where is it?" he asked.

The Doctor saw the Curator's eyes light with mischief.

The Curator smiled. Where was it indeed. Time to send the boy on his way with a purpose and something to run toward.

He smiled. "Where is it indeed! Lost!" The Curator shushed him as he continued.

Lost! How could it be lost? The Doctor wondered. He/They had done it. They had saved Gallifrey.

"...Oh you have a lot to do." The Curator finished.

That caught his attention. He was supposed to find Gallifrey? He had placed it in a parallel universe. He had done it. Now he had to find it. He had saved his home only to lose it again in a pocket universe. Oh, how wonderfully absurd the Doctor thought.

"Is that what I'm supposed to do? Go looking for Gallifrey."

The Curator grinned. Oh how he envied the boy. The adventure was just beginning. He had no idea.

"I'm only a humble Curator I'm sure I wouldn't know. I can only say if I were you..."

If only he chuckled to himself... if only he were...voiced the thought aloud

"I can only say what I would do if I were you...oh."

He smiled it wouldn't do to tell the boy everything. There would be times ahead...oh would there be times. But that was the thing of it. There would be times now and hope. Oh he had so much to look forward to again. Finally.

"Who knows maybe I am you or you are me. Or maybe it doesn't matter either way"

The Doctor smiled. The old man was playing with him, but it was...well it was right. He knew it was what he would have done , or even what he was doing. Odd he thought it just as the Curator voiced it. De ja vu no more like pre ja vu.

"Who knows who knows?" The Curator tapped his nose.

The Doctor smiled the gesture was so familiar he almost felt it himself. Even though he hadn't used it in centuries, many many centuries.

The Curator turned and walked slowly away. His job was done. He had given just enough information to lead him to the next path, but not too much information. It was very important not too much. Where would the fun be in that anyway. Couldn't make it too easy for himself now could he. The Curator chuckled to himself as he ambled toward his office.

The Doctor usually hated when time streams tangled like this. Still he couldn't say he really regretted this particular tangle. No, this time tangle was good really good. Apparently he had places to go and people to see. He just hoped he remembered at least some of it. Time got tricky when times streams crossed like this. He had broken who knew how many laws of time. Now, he just had to find the time lords , so they could berate him. He thought gleefully. Odd to think all those years he had spent running for breaking their rules. Now he wanted nothing more than to hear them lecture him about it.

The Doctor got up and walked toward the TARDIS. Yes, he had a lot to do.


End file.
